


The Least Sexy Food Fight Ever

by Midge03



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cum Swallowing, Denial of Feelings, Fingering, Food Fight, Foot humping?, Friends to Lovers, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension, Smut, jisung top, just a bit, minho bottom, minsung - Freeform, soft, thigh grinding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28238904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midge03/pseuds/Midge03
Summary: It takes a food fight for Minho to realise that yes, all his friends were correct and yes, he has the hots for Jisung, and yes, Jisung has the hots for him back. But Jisung hasn’t realised that just yet so Minho makes it his mission to seduce the boy before the rest of his friends come back home from their day out.OR: Seungmin played Cupid by locking Minho and Jisung in the dorm alone for the day
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han & Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 8
Kudos: 251





	The Least Sexy Food Fight Ever

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a while since I wrote Minsung and not gonna lie, I really enjoyed it.  
> I missed those boys way too much

Maybe it was the unadulterated sexual tension between the two which had resulted in this. It hadn’t been the plan but plans only worked when one was looking forward to spontaneous road trips or sex to disrupt hours of careful preplanning. If Seungmin were here he’d have tutted, thrown a mop at the two of them and then left without a word; Seungmin’s way of showing immense disapproval. 

But Seungmin wasn’t here so one of them would have to make the lunge for the mop first. And Minho was damned sure it wasn’t going to be him.

But unfortunately, Jisung seemed to have the exact same thing in mind. He was standing across from Minho, fists clenched and eyes glowering, and the elder might have found it almost scary if it hadn’t been for the way Jisung’s left cheek was covered in tomato sauce and there were bits of pizza dough stuck in his hair.

The least sexy food fight of the century. Minho almost expected Guinness World Records to storm in through the door and slam them a victory. But at the same time, Minho also had an underlying feeling that if anyone did enter the room, the first thing they would sense was the overwhelming sexual energy radiating from the two. (The one that neither of them had wanted to acknowledge for a very long time, but Minho had only just realised existed.)

And stubbornness. Of course. Because neither of them had reached for the mop still. Minho contemplated grabbing it and using it to smack the dough out of Jisung’s matted hair but that was basically him screaming “I’m the bottom.” It would be giving in to their glaring contest and therefore renouncing his dominance.

But glaring hadn’t been part of the plan either. No, the plan had been, to quote Seungmin: _“Sort your fucking feelings out alone you fucktards. I’m done with seeing you eyefuck each other all throughout choreo practice. We’re all going to leave for a few hours and you two will stay here and resolve.”_ The boy had then proceeded to, with the help of Changbin, remove the lock on their dorm room and reattach it the other way so that the person with locking rights was on the outside. He’d changed the pin so that neither Minho nor Jisung could escape from inside but literally anyone could enter.

 _“Genius!”_ Felix had cried, thanks to Seungmin completely omitting the fact that if Jisung and Minho weren’t watching the front door all day, they could very easily be robbed.

 _“What’s with the pizza?”_ Minho had asked. _“Some sort of bonding activity I suppose?”_

 _“No,”_ Seungmin had said. _“I deserve to get something out of your conflict so the least you two can do is make dinner.”_

Minho was tempted to call Seungmin and tell him how his dinner was now on the floor, walls and the two of them, also maybe casually slipping in that his ‘conflict resolution’ had not worked, if not worked meant throwing food everywhere. He wanted to call to rub Seungmin’s failure in a little but he also knew that indirectly this whole… scene… would just further consolidate Seungmin’s point of “You two have such massive crushes on each other that the only way you can deal with them is bully the other.”

He decided not to call. 

When Minho and Jisung were first informed of Seungmin’s ‘ingenious plan,’ they had both done the most to convince him that it was not necessary. There Is No Conflict!™ had been their slogan for the last few hours, but Chan had cruelly pointed out that if there was no conflict, why were they so against spending a day together?

That had prompted a series of splutters from the two boys. Most because they knew that yes, there was hella conflict between them. And tension. Definitely not sexual tension though, their friends had been royally wrong about that. Yes, Minho and Jisung had the tendency to irk each other, and yes, maybe it could get a little too much at times but it was definitely not! because! they! wanted! to! fuck!

-was what Minho had thought up until exactly fifteen minutes ago when the first fistful of sauce had flown through the air and landed on his pristine white shirt. Like a true adult, he also plunged a hand into the saucepan and rubbed it on Jisung’s face. That was followed by the dough Jisung had made and the flour he was using to roll it out (they were definitely better weapons than sauce) until most of the dinner they had thus far prepared lay utterly inedible all over the kitchen. That was when Minho reached the conclusion that yes, maybe the boys had been right. Maybe fucking was the solution to all this… fighting? Teasing? Undressing each other with their eyes? Throwing sauce in the air?

He couldn’t believe that a food fight was the way he realised that he genuinely was attracted to the chipmunk of the group. He was also damned irritated that everyone else had figured it out before him, and he couldn’t even yell at them for not having said anything because they most definitely had. They had screamed it to both him and Jisung over a hundred times.

However he wasn’t going to admit that out loud any time soon. No, not at all. If the realisation had flicked a switch on in him, one which involved the urge to dick Jisung down, he was not going to act on it. Jisung probably hadn’t reached the same conclusion as he had yet (dumbass) and Minho wasn’t about to embarrass himself for _feeling_ something.

 _“Why Jisung?”_ was definitely the first thing he thought, followed by disgust at himself at realising that even when the younger was covered in sauce and dough, clothes filthy, cheeks flushed and eyes glimmering, Minho still wanted to bone him down. 

Which was also the reason he was not going to reach for the mop. He was doing the boning, not Jisung. 

If it ever came to it that was. He wasn’t that attracted to the boy that he would go out of his way to make it happen. Just a tiny bit. Enough to not mind fucking him.

Of course, zero fucking was going to happen if they stayed like this, the mop still untouched, sexual tension just rising exponentially. Minho’s revelation only spurred him on more, and he clenched his fists and focused his attention on boring holes through Jisung with his eyes. 

They stood like that for about ten minutes, not making more movement than necessary, until Minho noticed Jisung twitch. And then he sneezed.

“AHA!” cried Minho, pointing an accusing finger at Jisung. “I win!” Dominance asserted! Step one to fucking Jisung complete… not like he was trying to make it happen. No, that was just in case.

The victory was as sweet as Minho had expected, with Jisung sending glares at him through his flour induced sneezes. Minho just grinned down at him, waiting for the boy’s bout to finish before they tried to fix whatever mess they’d created. Or he could try-

“Jisung tidy this up,” he said as soon as the boy recovered. Jisung looked at him, attempting to seem menacing like earlier but failing. Before there had been stakes, but now Minho had the upper hand and Jisung had a red nose and sauce beginning to drip down in fat glops onto his shoulders. Minho had power. 

“Why?” asked Jisung, clearly annoyed at the injustice of Minho’s words. “You threw just as much.” 

“You started it though,” retaliated Minho, putting his hands on his hips in an attempt to make his biased point valid. He knew a childish bicker was about to start and he was ready for it.

“But you threw back, if you hadn’t there wouldn’t be as much mess,” said Jisung incredulously, mirroring Minho’s pose in a mocking manner. God he really was genuinely annoying, still.

“Well if you hadn’t thrown first there wouldn’t be any mess.”

“Well if you didn’t exist there wouldn’t be any mess.”

“Well if you didn’t exist-“ And oh. Now it hit Minho how everyone knew before them and how obvious the two were and how… right Seungmin was. To spite the boy, despite him not even being there, Minho decided to take the higher ground this time and didn’t spit back when Jisung sent an insult in his direction. The younger barely acknowledged that though, giving a tch and grabbing the towel to wipe himself clean.

Silence ensued, the two of them taking a break from their conflict to clean themselves and attempt to clean the kitchen. Paper towels were definitely the least eco friendly way of doing that but Minho didn’t know any better methods, and Jisung seemed to know less. He instead wrapped up the remaining dough and threw it in the freezer before dumping himself at the table. Minho threw the last lot of dirty paper towels in the bin and joined him. 

“Seungmin is gonna be mad about dinner,” said Jisung.

“Forget dinner, Seungmin is gonna be mad we aren’t fucking like rabbits when they all walk in,” said Minho.

“Do we have any ingredients left?” asked Jisung.

“Nope,” replied Minho, popping the p. “Best plan is order some and pretend we made it because we can’t exactly leave to buy anything.” Jisung glanced at Minho, hesitant in the thought that the boys would clearly be able to tell it wasn’t homemade, but in the end he nodded and got up to order, and Minho left to change and check if a robber hadn’t broken in in the time they’d spent in the kitchen. It was highly likely that after this, they would just retire to their rooms and doze, but if Minho thought about it, that sounded a little… sad.

And Kim Seungmin strikes again. Minho smacked his thigh in frustration, once again irritated at himself. This time he'd even said it himself, how the pizza would be a bonding experience, and had naively believed Seungmin when the younger said it was just dinner. Although he was sure Seungmin’s bonding plan involved less violence.

But plans only worked out when one was looking forward to spontaneous road trips or sex. And now Minho couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn't stop thinking about Jisung, and about how (he hated to say it but) following Seungmin’s plan did not seem like such a bad idea, the bloody cupid.

As he peeled his shirt off, Minho recalled all the odd little moments in his and Jisung’s history that he’d never really focused on, namely moments followed by Felix and Hyunjin squealing in the background. There was the day Jisung dyed his hair blue, although Minho was sure Bluesung had everyone’s hearts fluttering, and there was also the time he wore shorts which rode up to his thighs when he sat down, showing off gorgeous golden skin. If Minho recalled, his thought process at seeing Jisung’s bare skin had gone along the lines of “Holy fuck they look so soft and fuckable,” to “No I did not just think about fucking Jisung’s legs,” to “No I really and truly did not, it was a hallucination.” …Yeah he kinda saw how it must have been annoying for the rest of the boys to watch him go back and forth.

But much more than that, Jisung also had his fair share of denying the truth, the most obvious episode being when he’d ogled at Minho’s arms for an hour straight. Minho himself hadn't done the timing, more preoccupied with proving to Chan that the elder was shit at video games, but Changbin had shoved the timer in his face and screeched very comprehensively _“Jisung stared at your arms for an hour and nine seconds.”_ Jisung’s hot, flustered gaze; eyes looking everywhere but him, was something Minho had never forgotten, even amongst his denial.

From then on, he’d become more aware of Jisung. And maybe from then on their so called “non sexual” tension had arisen. The more Minho thought about it, the more he realised that there had never been mere conflict, it had all revolved around how desperately the two of them wanted each other. His thought process once again ended in cursing Seungmin for being so right.  
Honestly though, Minho didn’t even know why he’d denied it all that long. The most likely story was that he was scared and nervous about his feelings and what a future involving Jisung might look like, but Minho knew himself and he knew that in all honesty he’d probably just been too dense and unbothered about romance to notice.

But he wasn't now. Now he was bothered as fuck and a little horny too, rememering Jisung’s red face and steely eyes from earlier all focused on him. He decided that they’d spent enough time goosing around uselessly and action needed implementation. And Minho’s current power move was walking out shirtless to hunt for another t-shirt because his were all “dirty.” 

Stuffing the clean shirt he’d found earlier under his mattress, Minho walked out of the room. He contemplated doing a strut but Jisung knew him well enough to know that it wasn’t natural so he just pushed his sweats a little lower, making sure his sharp hip bones and slight V showed just enough to make it seem casual. 

What he had NOT expected when he walked into the laundry room was Jisung to be shirtless too, back bare and bent over the washed clothes basket, digging for something to wear. It gave Minho deja vu because that was exactly what he’d planned in his head, only he was Jisung and Jisung was he; frozen and flustered at the sight. It was like a little bite from fate for swaggering in all sure that he had bagged this win. What if Jisung was a step ahead of him? What if he had realised before sauce flew that he liked Minho and what if he was on a mission to seduce the elder? Then Jisung would totally get to top! Then Minho would never get to feel that tight little butt around himself.

But all his horror and slight shock came and left in under a minute, and instead he found himself transfixed as Jisung’s arms flexed, flinging clothes left and right. The ridges of his spine shone through his skin and his small shoulders looked so broad compared to his tiny waist. There was a mole on his upper back, so small and cute, and then there were smooth bumps of his abs that flashed in contrast whenever he turned his body a bit. He didn’t seem to have noticed Minho yet, and Minho was glad for it. He was vulnerable right now, the lump in his throat rendering him unable to throw back insults at Jisung lest the boy see him. And he was sure his face was in a state; hot and bothered and unable to tear away from Jisung’s body. 

The extent of his vulnerability showed when Jisung finally found what he wanted and turned around. Instead of tearing his gaze away, Minho just gawked more because now he could see the line between his abs and his pecs, his brown nipples hard from the cold breeze entering through the open window. His skin shone, and Minho was sure that if he touched it his fingers would slip at how smooth and soft it was. 

His only saving grace was a quick look at Jisung’s face, because the younger was in the exact same state as he was. His mouth had fallen open slightly and his eyes were fixated on Minho’s abdomen. If Minho had been in a normal mindset like planned (bloody plans, always never working) he would have sent Jisung a teasing smirk, maybe a fleeting glance, grabbed his shirt and left all in one smooth, buttery breath.

Unfortunately, right now the best thing he could do was get out in one piece. It wasn’t like they’d never seen each other naked before (Hyunjin tried to make a pool party an orgy by pantsing everyone) but it was different when their heads weren’t occupied with covering their penises. It was different when it was just the two of them and if they jumped each other right now, no one would have to know. 

Minho gulped, tearing his eyes away and walking over to the basket. He muttered a little “Ahahah bro…” when they accidentally touched skin just in case Jisung really wasn’t on board, grabbed a shirt (Felix’s and two sizes too tight) and bolted, leaving Jisung frozen in position.

He also wanted to bolt his room door but that would be far too suspicious. He _also_ wanted to grab his dick and, as Changbin so eloquently put it _“Beat the heat out of his meat,”_ but that would definitely be suspicious. Instead he yanked the shirt on, got stuck, took it off, pulled his own shirt out from under the mattress and put that on. Illogically, he needed a moment to recuperate; maybe take an hour to play over the sight of Jisung again and again in his head, but logically he needed to go back and face Jisung. He had to prove to him that Minho Did Not Back Down! Ever! 

Also logically, Jisung probably didn’t even know about the battle going on in Minho’s head and the elder was likely very safe just hiding away till the boys came back. But as ever, if they were going to fuck (which was becoming more necessary with every passing minute) Minho had only these precious moments to make it happen.

He needed another power move. And this time he needed it to work. 

He walked out of the room, joining Jisung at the kitchen table. The younger was now fully clothed and playing some useless game on his phone, warming his toes up next to the heater. He looked up briefly as Minho sat, but in just that moment Minho managed to pick up on the way the younger’s soft, full cheeks became decorated with a blush. Jisung got rid of it relatively quickly though, but that did not stop Minho’s ego from inflating a bit. It also gave him the confidence to carry out Power Move Number Two, not like he’d been hesitant.

Rising, Minho walked over to the stove. He opened the drawer next to it, taking out a spoon and scraping up a bit of the cold sauce left out of the pan to “taste” it. Jisung’s eyes followed him curiously.

“Is it any good?” he asked, because he was the one who had added the spices. The sauce itself was pretty average since Jisung’s chef’s palette ranged from salt to salt, but Minho’s plan wasn’t to critique. No, it was to rile Jisung up. 

Not replying, Minho stuck his tongue out and ran it along the spoon, barely catching any sauce but definitely catching Jisung’s attention. He looked at Minho curiously. Minho licked the spoon again, this time longer and slower, starting almost from the base. He dragged up the metal teasingly, twisting it and sucking on the tip until it was clean, making a show of swallowing after. If his little act hadn’t implied anything to Jisung then he could always pretend he really was just tasting, that’s how ingenious his plan was. (If anyone ever asked, no he had not stolen it from every romcom ever) Cautiously, he looked at Jisung from the corner of his eyes.

Jackpot. The boy’s face was red and his eyes were wide. One could have mistaken it for incredulity but but the way he was transfixed said otherwise. His phone lay slack in his hand and his other gripped the bench tightly, knuckles straining. His usual posture was one of intense manspreading but his legs had sprung closed, knees shifting against each other. He gulped when he noticed Minho looking at him, tearing his gaze away quickly and looking at his phone in an attempt to look unaffected.

It didn’t work. Instead it gave Minho the boost he needed to invite Jisung over in his own comprehensive, alluring manner.

“Hey Jisung,” he started, barely lowering the spoon. “Want some?” The line was perfect. If Jisung wanted out he could just say yes to sauce but if he wanted more… well.

Jisung looked up from his phone briefly, trying to avoid as much eye contact as possible. He looked like he was battling out whether or not to take up the offer. Maybe he didn’t even get what Minho was implying, or maybe he’d flat out say no and run. Maybe Minho was reading into their entire relationship wrong, maybe he was-

And then Jisung sat back and let his legs fall open. “Okay,” he said, looking dead into Minho's eyes. “Come here.”

Minho’s mind went into overdrive. No no no no no this was wrong. This was going the wrong way. Jisung was supposed to be shyly agreeing, Minho coaxing him up and telling him how cute he looked and how he didn’t have to be shy. _Minho_ was supposed to be in charge, not Jisung. But with just one line and one look, he had Minho dropping the spoon onto the counter and walking over, hypnotised by the commanding look in Jisung’s eyes and the slight bulge under his black tracksuit; one he wasn’t even trying to hide. His cheeks were still red, nervous, but he knew what he was doing far more than Minho. Jisung always had been good at getting what he wanted.

Minho was too occupied by these thoughts to celebrate Jisung giving him the go to. He was too occupied with drinking in how Jisung looked and how determined the glint in his eyes was. Minho hadn’t even reached the table but he was already anticipating, and the best part was he didn’t know what. He had no idea what was coming, all he knew was Jisung and his lazy posture and his beckoning face. He stepped forward slowly.

And then Jisung brought his hand to his crotch, and rubbed. Just like that, zero shame. Like he was just scratching an itch. He ran his finger over the ever growing bulge as he watched Minho and it gave the elder jitters. It was like Minho was the scene and the hesitant way he walked over the porno. Like his desire and embarrassment was what got Jisung off, and like Minho was so insignificant that Jisung could touch himself as if he were alone. It all made Minho want to melt into a puddle at Jisung’s feet and stay there, worshiping the whithering gaze of his eyes.

But unfortunately, Minho lacked the ability to melt (curse you universe) and his only choice was to keep going. Keep walking closer to Jisung and to the trap he had set for himself. They hadn’t even done anything but months (hours actually) of longing rendered him close to dropping on the floor and getting himself off there and then just because Jisung was just too far away.

After a few more steps however, he made it. He was towering over Jisung now but it didn’t feel like that, he still felt small. He stood up straighter, as if to try clear his head and turn this around in his favour, but Jisung grabbed his wrist and pulled him down. Minho landed with a thump on his knees between Jisung’s legs, his breath catching in his throat. Frozen, he steered his eyes up to look at the younger, who sat there, expression steely. There was a nervous glimmer in his eyes but he pushed that back before speaking. 

“You asked me if I wanted some Minho,” he said, voice unexpectedly gravelly. “What are you taking so long for?” Minho gulped. He was just an inch away from Jisung’s dick, rendered helpless by the musty whiff of his pants mixed with the sharpness of his perfume. It plucked a string in Minho’s heart, and his breathing picked up. _Jisung’s dick was an inch away from him!!! He need only shift forward to be able to feel it, taste it’s saltiness and savour in it’s warmth._

So that was what he did. He had, after all, offered. He reached out, trailing cautiously up Jisung’s leg and scratching along the plasticy fabric until he reached the swell in his pants, too large to be semi. Gently, Minho ran a finger over it, stroking a few times. Jisung’s breath hitched and he bit his lip, knuckles tensing around the bench like before. Minho had barely started but the tension was so palpable that it felt denser than Monsoon humidity. It was closing in on him, making his ears ring.

But when he pressed in a little harder and felt Jisung twitch, all his blood rushed south. His mind fused and then rebooted itself to one aim and one aim only: getting Jisung off. He wanted to feel more of those twitches and hear what Jisung sounded like at his most vulnerable. 

So Minho went all in, sliding his hand under Jisung’s shirt, moving up and savouring his tense muscles and hot skin, and then sliding back down. He skimmed a finger underneath the waistband teasingly, feeling Jisung’s happy trail give way to his pubes. He pushed lower, discovering Jisung had gone commando like any sane person on a day off, until he was touching the hot skin of his dick, hard and too large for a boy his size. Curiously, he gripped it, hearing Jisung take in a sharp breath. The sound sent shivers down Minho’s spine, and he wanted more. Not just wanted, needed. 

Bringing his other hand up, Minho pulled Jisung’s waistband down. The boy’s dick sprung up, and it was more than Minho could have ever asked. It stood tall and proud, red tip leaking profusely. Minho watched a bead of precum dribble down a vein in awe, poking the side and watching it twitch. He looked up, breath hitching at the sight of Jisung.

He was leaning back against the wall behind him, bottom lip between his teeth. His hair fell forwards, almost, but not quite, concealing the younger’s eyes. Minho could clearly see the way Jisung’s gaze was fixated on him, eyes not stuttering even when Minho met his. He was hypnotised, much like Minho himself, and Minho didn’t want to have to look away.

So he didn’t. Not breaking eye contact, Minho settled himself on his haunches, pushing Jisung’s legs further apart. He then gripped the boy’s dick and slowly guided it to his mouth, watching Jisung watch him. When he finally latched on, lips wrapping around the salty tip, Jisung moved a hand hesitantly to Minho’s hair. Minho wanted it, he wanted Jisung’s hands on him, so he told him by sinking lower, letting the younger’s dick fill his mouth.

Jisung groaned, fingers gripping tightly. Minho hummed in approval and that made Jisung twitch again; like a cascade of beautiful events. Realising Minho liked the hand in his hair, Jisung experimentally gave a little push. Minho sank even lower; halfway down. Jisung was so big though; too big, that his tip was already brushing the back of Minho’s throat. The elder knew he couldn’t go lower so he pushed up, finally bobbing up and down.

Jisung’s hand loosened its grip and he finally broke eye contact, the surging sensations becoming too much. He rested it against the wall, so now Minho had a clear view of the younger’s throat, bobbing every time he swallowed. Fuck, it would look so pretty stuffed full of a dick. Minho twitched at the thought, already buzzing with imagining the feeling of Jisung’s hot, wet walls around him. It had to feel that good, what with the way Jisung’s hips were now stuttering and the way he couldn't control the little gasps coming out of his mouth.

“I’m close Minho,” he said, and just the knowledge that he was the one who had brought Jisung to this state had Minho’s dick filling out all the way. He moved his hand away from Jisung’s thigh, gripping the parts he couldn’t reach with it and bobbing faster. He increased the pace, the way Jisung’s moans became choppy only spurring him on. He kept on going until he felt Jisung tense and let out a cry of warning. Minho pulled up, lips still around the tip, as Jisung came. The younger filled Minho’s mouth, the salty cum pooling on Minho’s tongue, as the elder jerked him down from his high. When Jisung finally started to hiss from overstimulation, Minho pulled off, swallowing. No it was not delicious but it was part of Jisung and Minho was greedy for that now.

Jisung took a moment to regain his breath, but in that time Minho only became exponentially more needy. He waited for the younger though, grinding down against his own hand occasionally to alleviate some tension. He wanted Jisung to touch him so badly, but he also didn’t want to pressurise the younger into anything. So he waited patiently.

“You- you good Hyung?” asked Jisung finally, looking down at the boy. Minho nodded, not trusting himself to words. “Do you want some… help with that?” he said, looking down at the bulge in Minho’s pants. He moved his leg over Minho’s thigh and hesitantly brushed his toes along the bulge as if to point out exactly what he meant, but more to tease Minho. Minho shuddered and Jisung used that as a cue to push harder. His gaze was curious but Minho was too horny to be rational, and he rutted up onto Jisung’s foot. Jisung gave a small, experimental kick and Minho’s body jolted, the elder falling forward onto his palms. Jisung grinned.

“You want me to fuck you now?” he asked. Minho sat up straight at that, ready to comply when he remembered the last shreds of his dignity. He shook his head slowly. “No?” asked Jisung, puzzled.

“I- I mean yes,” explained Minho. “But not… like that exactly.” He bowed his head down slightly to try hide the embarrassed dust of pink on his cheeks. Because once again, this was not how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to be asking that, he wanted to have Jisung all hot and bothered, he wanted to know what the younger’s lips looked like around his dick. Jisung was loud and unruly yes, but he was the one who needed taking care of. He was younger, he was dependent on Minho in the most adorable little ways. Minho was supposed to be fucking into him slowly and kissing him softly. This was wrong, he hated the lack of control.

But oh, it felt so right. To deny the shivers he felt being sat at Jisung’s feet would be blasphemous. Hearing Jisung’s moans and feeling him hot and throbbing in his mouth was something unbeatable, something unarguable. And maybe Jisung’s dick inside him sounded almost better, sounded like the perfect solution to everything.

“I- I mean yes. Yes. I want to you to… fuck me Jisung.” The words wiped the puzzled expression off Jisung’s face and replaced it with relief. And then a grin. 

“Of course, how can I say no when you’re so pretty Hyung?” he said, and he gave Minho’s hair a belittling little stroke. The way he said Hyung made Minho’s heart jolt, because even though he used that word every day, it wasn’t like this. Usually it came laced with respect but now that very word made him feel so small, showing him just how much control he had lost. And Minho loved it, he wanted to feel smaller.

Standing up shakily, Minho put his hands on Jisung’s shoulders and seated himself on the younger’s lap, straddling him. He was unsure of whether Jisung’s tiny legs could take his weight so he looked at the boy questioningly, but he seemed more than comfortable. The younger’s eyes were all over Minho, taking in their proximity, but his hands were still hovering over his waist, unsure. Minho moved his hips, grinding down on Jisung’s leg and whimpering.

“Touch me Jisungie, please,” he said, grinding down again and basking in the pleasure the sensation sent up his body. Jisung didn’t hesitate, bringing his palms down on Minho’s waist and sliding them lower slowly until they were resting on the swell of Minho’s ass. They weren’t where he needed them to be, but just to have Jisung touching him was enough for now. His small leg gave him a surprising amount of pleasure.

Minho kept grinding, swivelling his hips in a rhythm until he finally managed to lure Jisung’s hands lower. But it still wasn’t enough and he was growing desperate. The friction between their clothed legs was growing painful as much as it was pleasurable, and Minho finally caved in to a little begging. It had been too long since he’d been touched down there.

“Jisung please,” he said, “Touch me properly.” Jisung, who had spent the last five minutes just watching the show Minho was putting on, raised his eyebrows.

“Touch you properly? Is this not proper,” he asked. Minho shook his head, embarrassment flooding him. Jisung moved his hands up and under Minho’s shirt. 

“Is this proper?” he asked, teasing now. Minho shook his head again. Jisung moved his hands even higher. He trailed his cold fingers forward to Minho’s chest and let them casually drag over the elders’ nipples. Minho tensed. 

“Is this proper?” He nudged his face closer to Minho’s neck, letting his lips hover over the skin. He pinched Minho’s nipples. Minho gasped. 

“Is this proper?” Minho shook his head again. He loved it all but he didn’t want to settle for less.

And then Jisung moved his face up and kissed him. If having the boys dick in his mouth made Minho shiver, then this made him buzz. It was like everywhere Jisung touched him was ablaze, but where he wasn’t, cold as ice. His stomach was so full of butterflies he was sure that if he broke away from Jisung they would come fluttering out of his mouth. Jisung’s lips were small yet supple, and his tongue was rough along Minho’s. Minho gripped Jisung’s shirt and pressed in harder, not wanting to waste even an inch of his mouth. The kiss tasted of tomato sauce and Jisung’s cum, and it was a flavour Minho would never forget. 

“Is this proper?” whispered Jisung, breaking away. His breath was still hot and heavy on Minho’s lips and as much as Minho wanted to nod and say yes and ask for more, he knew that that wasn’t the right direction. The boys would be home soon and he was too desperate for Jisung inside him to leave it for later. He shook his head.

Then Jisung finally moved his hands to Minho’s ass, sliding under the fabric of his sweats and underwear so that he was dragging along bare, warm skin. He squeezed lightly, pulling Minho’s cheeks apart and letting go. He played around for a bit, just touching as he gently kissed up Minho’s neck, until finally he ran a finger over Minho’s hole. “Is this proper?” he asked. Minho finally nodded, a whimper escaping him. 

Satisfied, Jisung drew away, sitting back against the wall again. “Do you have lube?” he asked, and Minho nodded. Jisung smiled and pinched Minho’s cheek endearingly. “Cute,” he said. “Can you go get it?” 

Minho got off Jisung’s lap, making quick work of beelining to his room, grabbing the lube, and then beelining back. When he arrived in the kitchen again, Jisung had a hand wrapped around his dick and he was pumping slowly. He looked so lost in his own head yet so calm and pleasured, and Minho wanted nothing more than to be the cause of that. He sat the bottle down on the table, grabbing Jisung’s attention. So far he had been at Jisung’s beck and call, enamoured by his every move, but now it was Jisung’s turn to be enamoured. 

Taking a step back, Minho pulled his shirt off. He undid the knot in front of his sweats and loosened them around his hips before turning around and bending over the table. He could feel Jisung’s eyes boring into him but he tried not to think about it, instead focusing on the task ahead.

Reaching back, he gripped his waistband and then slowly, teasingly, he inched his sweats and underwear down. Bare skin came to view, and by the time his pants were on his thighs, Minho was buzzing with both the shame of his nakedness and excitement. He gripped his cheeks and spread them apart. He heard Jisung groan.

“Fuck Min, what are you doing to me,” he said, and Minho heard him rise and shuffle forward. He grinned victoriously, pulling more to reveal his fluttering hole. He could feel Jisung’s presence hovering behind him.

“Can- can I touch?” he asked, fingers resting lightly on Minho’s hip. He already had but apparently the sight was more enticing, and that satisfied Minho no end.

“I was gonna do it for you,” said the elder, nodding towards the lube bottle.

“No don’t do that,” said Jisung. “Let me, if you want.” Fuck, the fact that Jisung wanted to do this for him, that he wanted to touch him just for the sake of it and not for his own pleasure, made the butterflies in Minho’s stomach start up again.

“Yeah- yeah I want that,” he replied, and brought his arms forward, making himself comfortable. Jisung grabbed the bottle, opening it and pouring some of the liquid on his hand. He took a moment to warm it up before smearing it over Minho’s hole, trailing his fingertips up and down teasingly. He didn’t apply any pressure, the lack of contact making Minho’s dick leak onto the tabletop and his hole flutter. Jisung cooed at that.

“Such a pretty little hole Hyung,” he mulled. “So pretty and pink. You’re all puckered up for me, like a kiss.” He dragged his nail over the soft bumps, swapping out the roughness with his thumb and then back again. He toyed around, squeezing Minho’s cheeks occasionally and leaving little bites on his lower back. He teased until Minho grew desperate and let a strangled cry out from his throat. Jisung laughed, but complied, pushing the tip of one finger in.

“Fuck,” gasped Minho, biting his lip. Jisung let out a small “Cute,” as he pushed deeper.

“So warm too Hyungie, so tight,” he said, thrusting a bit before nudging another finger in. His words were so filthy but said with such gentleness, Minho would never have seen it coming from Jisung. He’d never have expected the boy to be such a sweet talker, but then again he hadn’t expected the younger’s cum to taste so salty or his pubes to be so dense. He hadn’t expected his dick to be so big or his fingers to reach the perfect spots inside him. He hadn’t expected Jisung to add two more fingers so that he had almost half his hand inside Minho, nor had he expected him to have that condom he was pulling out of his pocket.

“Say stop if it’s too much okay?” he said as he opened the wrapper and pulled the condom along his length. Least of all, Minho hadn’t expected to see “Him and Jisung,” ever, let alone himself bending over for the boy on the communal kitchen table only hours after realising his feelings for the younger.

Yet here he was, willing and pliable. He lay waiting for Jisung to fill him up; to bless him with his warm throbbing length. His hole clenched as he waited for Jisung to finish lubing himself, and when he finally did breach Minho’s hole with his tip, Minho found that the wait had only made it sweeter. It had been too long since he’d had something inside him, and if he knew throwing food in the air was the way to speed things up, he’d have done it a long time ago.

“Wow,” was all he could say as Jisung pushed in. “You feel so- fuck.” And he did. It was Jisung inside him of all people. His annoying little soulmate, the sexy rapper and the boy he’d unknowingly tiptoed around for ages. Finally. He wasn’t obligated to have words for this moment, he deserved to savour it.

So Minho let his mind blank and he just gripped the table tightly, telling Jisung he could go all the way. Jisung moaned as he bottomed out, gripping Minho’s waist hard. And when he started thrusting, Minho saw stars. The jolts made his dick slap on the table, the sharp sound complimenting their heavy breaths and strained groans. Minho’s own breaths soon became moans as Jisung brushed against his prostate, and he tried to tell the younger in his own garbled way.

“Yes- stay… perfect,” he said, the way his face was smushed on the table not helping. Jisung, by some God sent miracle, seemed to understand (they were made soulmates for this moment only) and he increased his pace.

“Like that Hyung?” he asked, clearly rhetorical because the way Minho’s volume picked up said enough on its own. “Like being filled up with your dongsaeng’s dick huh?” Minho nodded, clenching around Jisung to show his approval. Jisung threw his head back and groaned. “Fuck Min, I’m gonna cum,” he said. 

“Go on Sungie,” said Minho, clenching again. It worked, and with one final gasp. Jisung released into the condom. He kept thrusting shallowly until the condom was in danger of falling off, and then he pulled out. He peeled the rubber off, chucking it into the bin on the side before focusing all his attention on Minho. Minho expected some comment underlying with belittlement but instead Jisung said something else.

“You’re so hot.” And then he helped flip Minho over before dropping to his knees.

Minho finally had in front of him what he’d imagined, and I looked so much better than in his head. Jisung mouthing at his dick, licking up it in long stripes and suckling on the tip; it would have him cumming in no time. Minho’s toes curled and he groaned, leaning back on his elbows. He was so so close.

And when Jisung pushed three fingers back inside him, Minho barely had the time to warm Jisung before his body was wracked with his orgasm. He cried out, body shuddering as Jisung kept sucking and pumping. When it finally became too much, Minho grabbed Jisung’s hair and pulled him off, sitting up so that they were face to face. 

“What- what did you do to my-“ he started, but then Jisung opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. If he hadn’t just had one of the best orgasms of his life, the filthy sight of his cum dripping off Jisung’s tongue and onto his shirt would have made him nut. He groaned, watching as Jisung closed his mouth and swallowed, before pulling him in for a kiss. If felt different when he wasn’t high with hormones, but it felt equally special. He broke away.

“Seungmin will be proud,” he said, grinning. Jisung snorted. 

“Changbin is gonna be so annoyed, he bet twenty thousand we’d take till next year with Felix,” he said.

“What the fuck?” cried Minho. “I didn’t know we were simply a means of their entertainment.”

“Honestly, we made it like that,” said Jisung. Minho laughed, leaning up to give him one more peck.

And then the front door slammed open and the chatter of voices filled the air.

“Fuck,” said Jisung, standing up straight and smoothing his shirt out. “We look respectable right?”

“Sure,” said Minho, getting up off the table and pulling his sweats on properly. “Just tell them that stuff on your shirt is icing.” Jisung snorted, but ignored the stain and walked over to fix his hair in the reflection of the glass. Minho had been planning on rushing over to his room or to the shower, not wanting the boys to see how disheveled he was, but not even a moment later, six pink nosed, expectant looking boys and one confused looking pizza delivery guy piled into the kitchen.

“Well?” said Seungmin, not waiting a moment. He hadn’t even taken off his coat and shoes, and there were muddy prints on the floor behind him. Minho racked his brain for a suitable reply and was about to speak when a disgusted voice rang through the room.

“Ew FUCK, they did it in the kitchen.” Minho’s heart lurched, and he looked up to see Changbin staring incredulously at something.

Minho followed his line of vision down to the bottle of lube on the table. His eyes went wide, excuse catching in his throat, when Seungmin grinned and walked over to them, slapping him and Jisung on the back. The rest of the boys let out a series of groans, cheers and Minho was sure he heard Felix sing “Money money~” somewhere in there.

“Didn’t it work, didn’t my plan work?” asked Seungmin, leaning far too close into the boys’ personal space. Minho glared at him and Jisung hesitated, not wanting to feed Seungmin’s ego further, but in the end they had no choice. They gave their approval in the most comprehensive manner possible.

“Pizza…?

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up way longer than planned whoop-
> 
> Twitter: [BinnieBixch](https://mobile.twitter.com/BinnieBixch)  
> CuriousCat: [BinnieBixch](https://curiouscat.me/BinnieBixch)


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